


Summer Sex and CK Eternity

by sleepypercy



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Jared, Fingering, M/M, Underage Sex, lots of making out in closets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4353818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some slutty, 16-year old Jared by the pool, trying really hard to get Jensen's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Sex and CK Eternity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ephermeralk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/gifts).



“I hope Table 3 likes the taste of spit in their beer,” Danneel comments ominously, one dark eyebrow raised as she plucks the ticket from Jensen’s hand and glances toward the table of loud, drunk college boys. They’re all newly twenty-one and home for the summer, and Danneel’s been plotting their destruction since day one, toying with the idea of slipping some Rohypnol in a couple of the ringleaders’ shots just to stop all the badly sung Taylor Swift songs. None of them seem to understand the concept of ‘pacing’; they’re too excited about charging overpriced drinks to their daddies’ club accounts, oblivious to their own obnoxiousness. They’re also apparently allergic to tipping, despite treating Jensen like their personal butler and leaving their area trashed every day.

“I doubt they’d notice,” Jensen answers dryly. “They’re pretty wasted.”

“Well, _I’d_ know. That’s all that matters.”

As Danneel hands Jensen his tray of finished drinks, she grins and nods towards the far side of the pool. “Your boyfriend just got here, little sis in tow. You should ask him if he wants something.”

“I’m not serving an underage kid alcohol,” Jensen says, rolling his eyes and snatching the tray out of Danneel’s hands, careful not to spill anything. “And don’t let him hear you calling him that. He doesn’t need any more encouragement.”

Scoffing, Danneel points out, “We’ve got soda. You could at least ask him if he wants a coke.”

“Maybe,” Jensen replies noncommittally, teeth gritting as Table 3 starts snapping their fingers his way, calling out “garçon!” and asking if their drinks are ready. The college assholes are worse than usual, pushing Jensen into homicidal thoughts that distract his awareness of his surroundings. As he brushes by an empty table on his way over, his foot gets caught under a plastic leg and he jerks forward, gravity suddenly not his friend.

His torso and legs immediately twist underneath him and he throws his arms up in a move that he refuses to acknowledge as leftover muscle memory from his years at cheer camp, back when he’d had to balance tiny blonde things on his shoulders and hands. Thankfully, ex-cheerleader or not, he manages to keep everything upright, not a single drink spilling as he steadies himself back on his feet, tray parallel to the ground. Table 3 erupts in obnoxious cheers and claps, whistling overdone appreciation and threatening to actually tip him for the show.

He wonders if they’d be as excited if they knew what their drinks were laced with.

Ignoring all requests for an encore, Jensen plunks the drinks down on the table and walks away, jaw tight as he keeps reminding to himself how lucky he is to have a job at all in this small town. On his way back to the bar, he passes his not-boyfriend who is lying on a lounge chair, book in hand while his sister completes her private swim lesson. Sweat is dripping down his hairline, and Jensen has to admit that he looks like he could use something to cool him down. Sighing to himself and cursing Danneel for goading him into this, Jensen stops and asks him if he’d like anything to drink.

“Soda or water,” Jensen clarifies after a second when a mischievous smile crosses Jared’s face.

“You’re no fun,” Jared sighs, dropping his book to the side. One side of his mouth is still quirked up, and he tilts his head, long bangs falling into hazel eyes which are dragging up the line of Jensen’s body. The kid is not subtle. “Nice moves, by the way — especially with those hips. You some kind of gymnast?”

“No.” Unamused, Jensen frowns impatiently. “You want anything or not?”

“Yeah.” Another flash of bright teeth. “ _You_.”

“What are you, thirteen?” Jensen snaps. He doesn’t usually lose his cool like this, but with a craptastic day that’s been filled with snotty, ungrateful rich kids, a bruise on his calf the size of Nebraska, and a lovesick teenage boy that can’t take a hint, Jensen’s done playing nice. “I’m in college,” Jensen continues harshly, “and I doubt you even have pubes yet.”

“I’m _eighteen_ ,” the kid insists, smirking. Eyes fixed on Jensen’s, he scoots further down in his chair, one hand creeping over his own hips. His legs widen as his fingers follow the delicate line of bone creeping over the band of his swim trunks. Jensen’s well aware that this is a show just for him, meant to tease and get under his skin. But he can’t seem to make himself walk away, especially when Jared’s ridiculously long fingers tease the drawstring at the crotch, tugging lightly to accentuate the generous shape underneath. Yeah, Jared’s definitely not thirteen.

With an unmistakably flirtatious bat of his eyelashes, Jared taps the edge of his waistband and purrs, “I’ll let you check if you want. I keep myself trimmed, but there’s still more than enough hair under here. If that’s what you’re into.”

Jensen hadn’t been looking before, but now that he is, he can’t help noticing the faint definition of muscle peeking through the skinniness. The babyface had thrown him, along with messy, too-long hair that keeps sweeping into Jared’s eyes. But weaving through the long, coltish limbs are tight hints of muscle and hard bone, the subtle beginnings of a six-pack, and a sparse treasure trail that threatens to call Jensen’s bluff.

Lips pursed, Jensen shakes his head. “You’re not eighteen,” he states flatly, because, muscled legs or not, Jared’s still a couple years shy of being legal.

“Okay, sixteen.” Jared shrugs dismissively. “Still old enough for pubes. Old enough for a lot of things, actually.”

This kid is the worst kind of jailbait, lollipop-wet lips and sugarsweet thighs, both parted wide with the promise of something worth going to jail for between them. Scrubbing a hand across his face, Jensen’s suddenly more than done with this conversation. He’s starting to feel like a dirty pervert which makes him all kinds of uncomfortable. Instead of bothering to answer — since he knows Jared will only twist everything into more innuendo — Jensen tucks his tray under his arm and walks away, not looking back because he’s seen the kid’s hurt, puppy eyes before.

“You let Romeo down easy?” Danneel questions when Jensen leans against the bar. She’s scrubbing at the bar counter, cleaning up her workspace.

“Not really.”

She _tsks_ at him with her tongue, head shaking in disapproval. “Be nice to the boy. I like him. Have you seen him with his sister? He’s just the sweetest thing.”

“You can serve him then,” Jensen offers. “I get enough sexual harassment from cougar tennis moms, I don’t need it from prepubescent lolita boys.”

Scoffing, Danneel throws her towel at Jensen, soft cotton hitting him in the neck, and asks, “Then who _do_ you need it from? Because you kind of hate everyone, you know. And you refuse to let me try to hook you up with my super hot cousins, which is just ridiculous because they are literally models.”

“Not _everyone_ ,” Jensen protests. “I’m friends with you, aren’t I?”

“Only because I’m the only one who’s willing to put up with your ass,” Danneel answers, snatching back her towel. “That, and I like having it nearby. Makes a nice view when you walk away.”

“Shut up,” Jensen says, but he’s smiling. He reaches over to grab the empty tub and cleaning spray from behind the counter so he can bus the empty tables. Grin widening, he stretches a hand to swipe the towel from out of Danneel’s loose grip. “And stop checking out my ass,” he orders as he walks away.

“No promises.”

He’s wiping up a spill, tubful of dirty dishes sitting on his hip, when he feels someone come up behind him, just out of eyesight as they reach down to grab what ends up being a spoon and slipping it into his bus tub.

“See you tomorrow, beautiful,” Jared says cheerfully, slinging a bag over his shoulder and leading his little sister out. Now that the door been kicked open, it’s hard to _stop_ noticing Jared, the way his hip joints rotate as he walks, the strong lines of his back. He’s quite a bit taller than Jensen had assumed, towering over his sister, almost as tall as Jensen.

As he watches Jared leave, Jensen thinks about how much the kid obviously wants him. How grateful he’d probably be for any touch, really, whether Jensen’s thumb on his lips or his hands between his thighs. Jensen suddenly gets an uncomfortable mental flash of how sweetly the kid would fall to his knees, how appreciative he’d be if Jensen pinched that provocative mouth open and slipped his wet cock inside. He bets Jared would even swallow, gulping Jensen down and kissing the tip to make sure he got every last drop.

Fuck.

Jaw tight and cheeks flushed, Jensen turns back to the table and starts scrubbing hard at an invisible stain, vowing to try harder not to let Jared get underneath his skin. Jensen’s a better man than that. Or, well, maybe not. But he can pretend to be.

+++

He avoids Jared after that, which should be relatively easy since the guy never orders anything. Danneel, however, seems intent on destroying Jensen’s fragile soul, and she keeps handing him drinks and snacks to serve the kid.

“He needs some meat on his bones,” she says, shoving a strawberry lemonade into Jensen’s hand and shooing him away. As soon as she’d learned of Jared’s sweet tooth, she’d started mixing up her own kind of specialties, non-alcoholic fruit and sugar concoctions that she insists Jensen deliver. Jensen’s honestly not sure if she’s actually worried about Jared’s health or she just enjoys torturing Jensen.

When Jensen slides the drink next to Jared, he makes the mistake of looking at the boy instead of keeping his head down and walking away like usual. God, it’s like Christmas morning with the kid. His face lights up like free drinks are something special, something worth being excited over. He grins as he ducks down to get the straw through his lips which are pink, always pink, like he’s been drinking strawberry lemonade all day, fruit-stained sweetness perpetually soaked into those lips.

“Thank you.” His dimples pop out just as he looks up, and Jensen thinks about how easily his tongue could get lost in those tiny indentations.

“Thank Danneel,” Jensen grunts back and walks away. Or he means to. Somehow, though, he doesn’t move, just stands there for another minute, watching Jared happily drink down the fruity mixture like Danneel doesn’t send him drinks every day.

A slurp of sugar water escapes from the straw and dribbles down his chin, and Jensen can’t help imagining running his tongue over that sticky, curved bone. Instead, he pulls out a napkin, hesitating for a moment before stepping close enough to wipe up the mess.

Amused, hazel eyes flick up to meet Jensen’s. “This part of your job?”

“Cleaning up messes? Yeah, it is.”

“What if I _want_ to be dirty?” Jared shifts back, thighs widening subtly. It’s a cheap move, torn right out of a trashy romance novel. 

Jensen hates how easily it works on him. 

His eyes skate up the long line of Jared’s legs — all tan, wiry muscle — to where they meet in a V, and he hesitates just a second before continuing further, following the curve over the crotch of Jared’s swim trunks, a half-hard tease of a shape. A growl threatens to rumble up Jensen’s chest, angry and protective because he wants to wrap himself around Jared, safeguard him against all the things that blatant, over-ripe sexuality leaves him vulnerable to.

“You rich kids, always thinking you can have whatever you want,” Jensen states in a low, bitter voice while Jared’s eyes widen with surprise. “I’m not a toy,” he continues harshly. “This is my job, and I can’t afford to lose it over some kid who doesn’t know how to close his legs.”

A few expressions cross Jared’s face, too fleeting and vague for Jensen to pin down, before he finally shakes his head, voice quiet. 

“I’m not rich.”

It’s not at all the response Jensen expected, and he stares at Jared, trying to figure out if he’s being honest or not. He looks like he is. Some feeling rises inside Jensen’s chest, cold and heavy and a lot like guilt. Not that Jensen should have anything to feel guilty for. Jared’s the one who keeps pushing and pushing. At some point, Jared had to have expected something would come toppling down.

Sighing heavily, Jensen plucks the empty glass out of Jared’s hand before leaving. He knows it’s his default setting, walking away when things get too tough to handle. But it’s all he can do right now.

+++

A few days later, Jensen finds himself rushing over to the side of the pool, pressing a towel against the blood seeping from a head wound and staring down into a set of dazed hazel eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says reassuringly, feeling his heart beating hard against his rib cage, adrenaline surging. “You’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Jared’s right behind him, falling to his knees and peering over Jensen’s shoulders to frantically scan his sister for more wounds. “Is she alright?” Jared asks, voice high and panicky.

“Yeah.” Jensen gives him a brief, reassuring smile. “Just a small bump. It’s a head wound, though, and those tend to be bleeders.”

Megan’s lip trembles a bit, although she doesn’t seem hysterical, for which Jensen is grateful. He grabs Jared’s hand, pushing it towards the towel and guiding it down so it can replace Jensen’s.

“Hold that,” he tells the boy firmly. “I’m gonna go get our emergency first aid kit. Steady pressure, okay? Gotta keep that against her wound for at least fifteen minutes.”

Jared nods and Jensen jumps to his feet so he can dash to the back of the bar where they keep the little white med kit.

“Need any help?” Danneel asks anxiously, and he shakes his head while pulling the kit off the wall and hurrying back.

The towel is stained deep red when he returns, and Jensen waits until the bleeding slows before cleaning the wound and patching it up with gauze and tape. Thankfully, Megan seems perfectly fine aside from cracking open some skin, correctly answering all the questions about what her name is, where she is, and how many fingers Jared is holding up, and the cut is shallow despite the heavy bleeding.

Jared guides his sister over to the lounge chair, calming her with reassuring words, making her giggle with silly jokes.

With Megan just needing some rest now, Jensen returns to work, straightening chairs and cleaning a few things before heading back to the bar to chat with Danneel and fill out an incident report.

As Jensen’s coming back from dropping off the paperwork at the club house, he sees Jared tucked into the corner near the restrooms, shuffling his feet and obviously waiting for something. Based on the way Jared’s eyes flick up to watch Jensen walk by, he thinks that something might be him.

“Hey.” Jared’s voice draws Jensen aside and he stops, wondering if Jared’s still upset over his sister. Management had asked if Jared was likely to sue, and Jensen had answered that he didn’t think so, but he wasn’t sure.

“What d’ya need, kid?” Jensen asks, a bit impatiently.

“I just wanted to say ‘thanks’.” A tiny smirk is all the warning Jensen gets before Jared darts into Jensen’s space, warm breath against his lips registering half a second before Jared slides his mouth over Jensen’s, kissing him hard and full.

For the first few seconds, any thought of pushing Jared away is overridden by how completely he throws himself into it. One hand touching Jensen’s face, the other sliding up his shirt. Tiny, rabbit-soft whines huff up Jared’s throat and out his nose as he tries to press impossibly closer.

“Hey,” Jensen tries to get out against Jared’s mouth, but the kid tilts his head to nip at Jensen’s full bottom lip, stretching it between his teeth, and Jensen’s brain turn to white noise, nerves overloaded with sensations. His head thunks back against the wall, and suddenly Jared’s mouth is all over his neck, sucking bruises and dragging his teeth across the long curve.

Part of Jensen had been expecting Jared’s sex kitten act to be all show, but Jared knows what he’s doing. He’s a goddamn pro, really. Somewhere in the back of Jensen’s static-filled mind, there’s a niggling reminder of just _why_ this is a bad idea, but it’s difficult to concentrate with Jared’s sun-warm body pressed against his, the shape of his ribs curving into Jensen’s hands. Jensen presses into the elastic bone arches, fretboard shapes that slide under his fingertips.

The moment Jared’s hand tries to slip into Jensen’s pants, however, Jensen grabs his wrist. It feels baby-bird fragile in his fingers as he squeezes hard enough to get the boy’s attention. “No. Not gonna… too far. Jared,” Jensen wheezes out.

Smirking, Jared licks his lips and stares up at Jensen. “I bet it would only take a couple strokes,” he muses persuasively through plump, kiss-bruised lips. He drags his gaze down Jensen’s body, voice low and suggestive as he murmurs, “You look ready to pop right now. I might not even have to touch you. Bet I could just lean up, drag my teeth around your earlobe, and you’d go off like a shotgun.”

There’s no way Jensen’s going to take him up on that bet. Instead, he pushes Jared away, forcing space between them while his brain comes back online.

“This is not gonna happen again,” he promises Jared just before he walks around the corner, straightening his shirt and running his fingers through his hair so it doesn’t look like he was just mauled by a teenage boy when he goes back to work.

He lies.

Not twenty-four hours later, he lets Jared talk him into making out in the storage closet, back pressed up against a box of paper towels while Jared slides a leg around his hip, grabbing at Jensen’s hand until he gets Jensen to grip Jared’s thigh, keeping it in place.

He can feel the heat of Jared’s dick bleeding through two layers of swim trunks. The thick line of it nudges against Jensen’s own hard cock, circumventing Jensen’s no-dick-touching rule as Jared starts circling his hips and rubbing off on Jensen’s inner thigh.

Before Jensen can even think to stop it, Jared’s rutting suddenly slows, lanky hips jabbing forward twice before Jared groans, mouth slipping from Jensen’s lips to his neck. His breath is hot against Jensen’s jugular notch.

“Did you just fucking come?” Jensen asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Jared answers, sex-drunk smile on his lips. “Thanks, man.”

Jensen huffs irritably and pushes Jared away. “Go clean up,” he orders.

“Yessir,” Jared replies with a smart ass wink. “Think I’ll go jump in the pool.”

“You are NOT getting your jizz in my nice clean pool.”

“It’s not like it would be the first time there’s been spunk in there,” Jared protests. “Plus I’m sure there’s enough bleach in there to strip the scales off a fish.”

“Use the pool shower,” Jensen orders, grumpy because his own cock is starting to ache, too-full with blood and not even a warm body to rub up against anymore.

“Want some help with that?” Jared grins and nods towards the erection tenting Jensen’s board shorts.

“Get the fuck out.”

+++

It doesn’t stop there. Jensen keeps promising himself that each time is the last, but then Jared will bite his lip or runs his tongue up a straw or just fucking _breathe_ Jensen’s way, and he can’t seem to get Jared in the storage closet fast enough to hide the way his dick instantly perks up.

“Fucking nymphomaniac,” Jensen accuses between frantic kisses. He’s got his hands down the back of Jared’s shorts, palming at the soft, ripe globes of his ass while Jared whines against his mouth.

“ _You’re_ the one who dragged _me_ in here,” Jared reminds him.

+++

Danneel’s not stupid. And Jensen’s been getting reckless lately, too drunk on the way the kid feels and tastes to even remember how to be discreet.

To her credit, she doesn’t attempt to tease or embarrass him. She likes him too much to rub salt in the wound. She does raise an eyebrow when he comes back with swollen lips and flushed cheeks, tiny smile on her lips as she points out where some of the grenadine syrup they keep stored in the back had spilled on his shoulder.

Hiding a blush, Jensen grabs a rag and scrubs at the stain, hoping he doesn’t also wake up with hickies tomorrow morning. He doubts management would be able to overlook an indiscretion like this; they’d fire him in a heartbeat for messing around with one of the members, even without the added bonus of the kid being underage.

Danneel watches him carefully, nodding in confirmation that he’d gotten it all.

“You got it bad,” she comments.

+++

Jared’s extra worked up today, letting out small, breathless chirps against Jensen’s neck while Jensen’s got both hands on his ass. The warm muscle feels good in his hands, a perfect fit, and he loves how crazy Jared gets when he grabs it and yanks the boy’s body closer.

It’s too easy to forget where the line is supposed to be. Especially when Jared rolls his hips while sucking on the juncture between Jensen’s neck and shoulder. It turns Jensen reckless. Stupid. Makes him forget about the boundaries he’d already set for Jared and which he’s pushing by slipping his hands down the back of the kid’s shorts and groping at his ass. But he can’t seem to stop. Pleasure overriding sense, he lets his fingers pry apart the groove between Jared’s cheeks, middle finger brushing the dusky hole inside. 

Jared whines and goes limp, fingers digging hard into Jensen’s biceps. “Do it,” he whispers. “Come on, Jensen. Just a finger. Fucking want you inside me.”

God, Jensen wants to. He tests the give around the rim, feels Jared relax, wanting this. But one last spark of guilt manages to jolt himself out of his reverie, and he yanks his hand away.

“Can’t,” he answers, but Jared grabs his wrist and brings it up to his mouth, slipping Jensen’s fingers inside. His eyes go half-lidded as he drags the digits across his wet tongue a few times, flicking it up to lick the pads of Jensen’s fingers as he draws them out.

Wordlessly, he pushes Jensen’s hand back around his body, puppy-dog eyes coming out in full force. His fingers find that groove without even trying, sliding easier with Jared’s spit wetting the way. Jensen’s brain drops into full lizard mode, full of basal instinct and want, and his fingers slowly press in, much easier than he’d expected. He can feel Jared breathing out, his exhalations sweeping and hot against his skin.

He doesn’t go more than a few centimeters in, slow and steady. Jared’s repeating Jensen’s name against his chest, arching his back to help with the angle. His erection is pressed against Jensen’s thigh again, probably about ready to shoot off. That’s when Jensen decides it’s too much temptation to resist. Fuck, he’s only human.

Whipping his hand out of Jared’s shorts, Jensen spins Jared around so he can prop the boy up on one of the boxes before falling to his knees and yanking Jared’s swim trunks down.

He doesn’t let himself think, just rushes through this before he has a chance to change his mind. Leaning forward, he slips that flushed dick down his throat, throat opened wide because Jared’s the damn posterchild for the “Everything’s Bigger in Texas” motto.

It only takes a few seconds before Jared’s come pulses down his throat, salty on the back his tongue. He swallows quickly, face tilted up and eyes on the boy’s face. Jared’s eyes are screwed tight, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, mouth parted and wet. There are fingernail marks left Jensen’s shoulders when Jared’s finished.

Jensen’s still kneeling on the floor when Jared gets to his feet, a shaky, post-orgasm smile on his face as he pulls his shorts up and steps next to Jensen. Putting his mouth next to Jensen’s ear, he whispers, “I named my vibrator after you.”

As soon as the door shuts behind Jared, Jensen pulls out his cock and pumps hard, shooting come all over the concrete floor. He’s still trying to shake off the residual sex chemicals in his brain as he slumps against the nearest shelf and wonders how the hell things escalated this quickly. 

+++

“He’s not coming back.”

Jensen scowls into the sink, dunking an empty blender into the bubbles and growling in frustration when all the soapy water splashes over the rim and down his pants.

“Who?”

Huffing impatiently, Danneel grabs one of the maraschino cherries she’d been using to garnish drinks with and chucks it at his head.

“Your boy. The one you’re still collecting newspapers for, even though he hasn’t shown up all week.”

There’s a small stack of them on the corner of the counter, one for every day that Jared hasn’t shown. After rutting against Jensen in the closet, Jared was always amped up and giddy, mind racing and fingers tapping. Jensen had started keeping newspapers for him when he learned how much Jared like doing the crosswords, which was especially helpful when Jared needed somewhere to direct all that energy. Once in a while, when things were slow, he’d even sit next to Jared while he filled in boxes, offering help if there were any clues about music or classic movies.

But Jared’s been absent all week, no warning, no explanation. Jensen hates to admit how much he misses the kid, but he can feel himself getting moodier every day Jared doesn’t come back. Thankfully, Danneel hasn’t kicked his ass yet for his bitchy, mopey attitude, but her patience is probably wearing thin.

“I think his sister’s lessons are over,” Danneel says gently, walking over to help dry some of the clean dishes. “I asked the coach about it this morning, and with school starting in a few weeks, all his summer lessons are wrapping up. Megan actually got hers for free, since he’s her swim team coach and he knows money’s tight at their house.”

Jensen nods and tries to get used to the idea that he’ll never see Jared again. “Thanks.”

“You want to hit up a bar after work?” Danneel asks, concerned, but Jensen shakes his head.

“Nah, not today.” 

+++

There’s someone dressed in jeans and a blue sweatshirt sitting on Jensen’s car when he walks out to the parking lot, their back curled against the windshield, legs stretched across the hood. Jensen can feel his heart speed up as he walks closer. His suspicions confirmed when the figure turns its head and Jensen’s hit with a pair of dimples popping out in full force.

“Hey.” Jared rolls himself off the car when Jensen gets close, kicking his long legs out and dropping to the ground in a graceful, fluid motion. He’s still grinning. “Thought I’d find you here.”

Despite pining after the kid for days, Jensen finds himself inexplicably irritated. If Jared thinks he can just weave himself in and out of Jensen’s life like this, ditching him for a week and then showing up like nothing happened, he’s sorely mistaken. Jensen’s not making the same mistake twice.

“It _is_ my car.”

The kid’s smile wavers.

“I thought…” Jared looks a little lost but pushes through anyway. “...I thought you might want to hang?” He rubs at an itch on his arm, staring at the asphalt as he quietly adds, “Sorry for not telling you about Megan’s last day.”

Turning his back to the boy, Jensen shoves his key into the lock, twisting it and unlocking all the car doors at once. He pauses as he opens the driver-side door, thinking for a moment, then grunts out, “Fine. Get in.”

“Okay.” Jared slides himself into the passenger side, hands shoved into his sweatshirt pocket as he keeps peeking over at Jensen.

Jensen has absolutely no idea what he plans to do. He already knows it’s a mistake to pick up Jared like this, taking him home like a lost puppy. But Jensen can’t seem to stay rational when he’s around the boy, and he’s given up all pretense of being a good guy anymore. Good guys don’t pick up fuckable, slutty teenage boys and take them home.

Neither of his roommates are home when they get to Jensen’s apartment, for which he’s grateful. It’s Friday night, and they actually have social lives. 

Jared immediately flops himself on the couch, arms and legs all sprawled out. When Jensen walks up, Jared peeks up at him through his lashes, smiles, and asks, “Didja miss me?”

Instead of answering, Jensen slides next to Jared and kisses him, feeling some of that heavy tension from his awful week start to loosen, muscles finally relaxing. God, he’d almost forgotten how good Jared felt, all warm in his hands.

Jared starts pushing into his space, forcing Jensen back until Jared had enough room to climb into his lap, thighs spread on either side of Jensen’s and ass right over his crotch.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Jared says with a grin against his lips.

Things build up quickly, like they always do with Jared’s body pressed against him, and Jensen can’t resist getting his hands on that firm ass, squeezing until Jared squeaks against his mouth and starts rocking on his lap.

“Gonna do it this time?” Jared asks eagerly, neck tilted so Jensen can run his mouth under his jaw. Jared’s scent is stronger there, sweat and sun-soaked skin, and Jensen nuzzles into it. Hands teasing along the band of Jensen’s board shorts, Jared adds, “Gonna spear me on that cock, let me ride you ‘til you break?”

Jensen nips around the curve of Jared’s jawbone, imagining what he’d feel like around Jensen’s cock, all tight and blistering inside. His dick chubs up hard, 100% on board with Jared’s idea despite lingering reservations in his brain.

Jared’s hands dip into his pants, a little lower than before, testing boundaries to see if they’ve changed.

“I… don’t know,” Jensen says, but Jared’s hand slips down to encase his cock and whatever was left of Jensen’s self-control goes out the window as he arches into Jared’s grip. 

Jared nudges Jensen down with his thighs and other hand, pushing until Jensen’s back is against the cushion. His occupied hand keeps moving, sugar-sweet pumps and twists that make Jensen’s fingers dig into the couch. Once Jensen’s laid all the way back, Jared yanks Jensen’s shorts down, shoving them on the floor along with his sandals before pulling his own clothes off.

He’s gorgeous. Which Jensen knew before, but with Jared hovering over him like this, it’s an entirely different view. Golden skin from head to toe. Trim waist and perfect hips that Jensen wants to wrap a bow around. Jensen reaches out a hand so he can slide a finger along Jared’s pelvic bone, tracing it down to where it meets Jared’s hard, flushed cock. His mouth waters, Pavlovian-like, but Jared grins at him and shakes his head.

“I’m not leaving until I get fucked,” he reminds Jensen.

He blinks hard at the kid, feels his dick pulse from Jared’s casual statement, and Jensen knows he’s done fighting. He’ll do whatever Jared wants, happily. He still has to ask, though—

“Have you… ever done this before?”

The wry grin is enough of an answer, especially when Jared ducks his head sheepishly. “No,” he admits. “Not with a guy. But I wasn’t lying about the vibrator.”

Just as Jensen opens his mouth to ask another question, Jared kneels back on top, his naked, warm body distracting Jensen enough to make him forget whatever else he’d been worried about.

“I’ve used it a lot this week,” Jared confesses, purr back in his voice as he rubs himself back, cat-like, lining Jensen’s dick along the groove of his ass. “Thinking about you as I slide it up my ass, having to cover my own mouth so my parents wouldn’t hear me screaming your name. You gonna fuck me now, Jensen? Hmm? Because I opened myself up before I even stopped by your work, got myself all lubed up and everything.”

“Fucking hell, Jared,” Jensen breathes out, watching as Jared reaches back to finger himself back open, the boy’s mouth dropping open in a pink little ‘o’. His brain glitches, stuck on the need to be inside this boy right-the-fuck now, making Jared writhe so pretty on his dick. A small whimper escapes Jensen’s mouth, followed by a soft, “ _Please_.”

Jared shoots Jensen a knowing look as his fingers pop out, edges shiny with lube. His hands fall onto Jensen’s chest as he raises himself high enough to line up with Jensen’s dick before sinking down on it. A long breath blows through his lips as he pushes himself lower, popping Jensen’s dick through the rings of muscle until Jared’s fully seated, ass pressed against Jensen’s balls.

“How does it feel?” Jensen asks, watching Jared intently because Jared fucking himself down on Jensen’s cock is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

The boy wriggles his hips — making stars burst behind Jensen’s eyes — like he’s testing each sensation, and rocks down, trying to screw himself down even deeper.

“ _Good_ ,” Jared breathes out, voice low and strained. His cheeks are carnation-bright. “So good. Fuck, Jensen… your cock is in so deep.”

As soon as Jared’s got himself acclimated, he starts moving, building up speed until Jensen’s bouncing back on the couch. Jared’s back is arched, his muscles tight and strong on either side of Jensen’s hips as Jared rides him hard. His smooth, tan body covered in a sheen of sweat. Jensen didn’t think he’d last long, but his orgasm still comes up faster than he expected, hot pressure that suddenly spills hard and deep into his boy. Grabbing onto Jared’s hips, Jensen slams him down tight until he’s wrung dry.

When the phosphenes fade from behind his eyelids, Jensen starts to reach out to grab Jared’s dick, but Jared’s already pumping hard, sweat beading at his forehead until he groans and shoots off all across Jensen’s chest. It shouldn’t be this hot, feeling Jared’s come splatter across his body, but Jensen loves Jared marking him this way. Loves feeling like he belongs to someone. 

He runs one of his fingers through a wet stripe on his belly, popping the digit in his mouth and sucking off the salty flavor. He knows Jared’s watching, and he grins at the boy, sucking harder on his finger as Jared groans again, one last weak pulse dripping from his dick. 

Completely finished, Jared collapses, heavy on Jensen’s chest and breathing hard. Jensen wraps his arms around the boy and rubs at his back while Jared pants hot and humid into his skin.

When Jared’s caught his breath, Jensen nuzzles against his jaw, finding Jared’s mouth with his own. Close-mouthed, slow kisses that just feel good. He discovers that Jared’s a snuggler when the kid burrows himself against Jensen, cheek pressed against his thudding heartbeat.

“You got roommates?” Jared asks curiously.

Jensen nods his head, realizes Jared can’t see it, and says, “Yeah. They’re probably out for the night, but who knows.”

He can feel Jared’s grin. “Guess they’ll get a free show if they show up soon.”

“I put a sock on the door.”

Jared laughs, a bright, addictive sound, and Jensen knows it might ruin the moment, but he has to ask: “You gonna skip out on me again?” It’s pathetically vulnerable, and Jensen winces at his own neediness. He’s not even sure how it happened, but somehow he’d gotten himself attached, and the thought of Jared walking out that door and leaving again makes Jensen’s stomach turn. He’s never been great at relationships. Never really wanted to try. But Jared makes him want to stop messing around and try something real.

Jared looks surprised as he pulls back and shakes his head. “No I — I didn’t know if you’d even care when I left,” he says with a nervous laugh. Grinning wryly, he lays back down, adjusts so he can look up into Jensen’s face. “I figured summer was over anyway, and you’d have better people to make out with in closets. But then I thought I’d stop by anyway, and see if...”

“Oh.” There’s a stupid grin on Jensen’s face that he can’t even attempt to wipe off, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through Jared’s sex-mussed hair. It’s soft, and Jensen makes a mental note to adds ‘Jared’s hair’ to his ever-growing list of new addictions. “I’m glad you did.”

The grin Jared gives him is worth every moment of insecurity, and Jensen thinks — yeah, maybe. Maybe this could work.


End file.
